AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm thinking of renaming this "the neverending story" because that seems to be where it's headed. This part is completely unedited. Written in the span of 24 hours, and I didn't go back and add filler like I usually do. Why? Because I wanted to get it out there. I still reserve the right to go back and make some edits for content later. So feel privileged you're seeing the unmarred original. And after rereading the last 2 parts to remember where this story was, I realize I have contradicted myself so many times in regards to feedback that I'm not even saying that word. Do it if you want to. Or not.

WARNING: Big cliche ahead. Will probably read like many other fics. I didn't intentionally steal anyone's scene. If it's too much like another story, I apologize.

Part 7

She wiggled herself further back into the chair, bringing her feet up to rest on the edge of the plastic seat. Leaning forward slightly, she used her free hand to pull down the edges of her shirt, spreading the material so that it wasn't bunched along her back. When she was a bit more comfortable, she met his eyes again. They'd been staring at each other for a good while, neither willing to give an inch to the other. Squinting her eyes and looking a bit harder, she sought any sign to tip her off to his true feelings. But he was an expert at hiding things, and the glassy stare returned her way gave nothing away.

She briefly broke contact with his eyes, looking down to her hands for a few seconds, and then back up to his stare. And when she did, she finally saw it. A hint of amusement glimmered in the corner, giving her the slightest bit of hope that her intuition was correct. A grin began to spread, and realizing he had given too much away, his eyes immediately darted around the room, searching for another object to focus on. Taking his action as further confirmation that she was right, she inhaled deeply before she finally spoke.

"Do you have any fives?"

His face brightened at her question, a full-fledged smile breaking through. He took joy in watching her squirm, his confidence forcing hers to waiver. "No," he said firmly. "Go fish."

She looked him in the eye again, watching and waiting for it to come. Challenging his statement she blurted out. "You're lying".

His eyes opened wider. "I am not."

"You are so." She grinned. "Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."

He guffawed in indignation. "It does no such thing."

"It's doing it again."

"You're delirious."

"I'm not the one on narcotics," she countered.

He broke their stare again, focusing on a spot on the starch white wall across the room. Mentally debating his options, he thought about calling her bluff. Without turning his head, he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and he caught her gloating countenance. Realizing defeat, he hung his head solemnly and handed her the card. "Please have pity on me. The drugs are making me do it. I'm just not myself tonight."

Rory smiled genuinely as she arranged her cards in order, declaring victory yet again. "If you weren't lying there in a hospital bed, I'd run you through the gauntlet. As it is, I'll let it slide this once. But don't expect the same lenience in the future. "

"You are too kind, oh queen of the cards."

Pulling himself up further on the bed, Todd grimaced as he strained his knee in an awkward position. Rory was gathering the cards and caught the look of pain.

"Are you O.K.?"

He leaned forward and carefully put his leg back in a less painful position. "Never been better."

"You know, if you really didn't want to go with me you could have just said something. Staging this whole injury thing may have been a bit much." Thinking for a minute, she continued. "Actually, can you show me how to do that? I think I'd rather be in the hospital than at that formal."

He smiled at her light attempt at humor. "You mean I didn't tell you how this all happened?"

She shook her head.

"You know those escort buttons the Founders committee made for all of us?" He waited while she acknowledged the gaudy piece of work. "Well I was so proud of that art that I decided to wear it with my track outfit. The color brings out the green in my eyes. Apparently I didn't take into account how fabulous I look while wearing it, because the entire girls track team couldn't take their eyes off of me. And I was so flattered, I was waving to them when I tripped over my own feet sending me sprawling across the asphalt. I'm a victim of my own vanity."

Rory watched him amused. "And I'm sure the graceful fall only added to your appeal. Are you sure your inflated ego didn't make you a bit top-heavy?"

"I can't help it I'm such a stud."

Rory rolled her eyes.

"So, have you found a suitable replacement for me?"

"Aw, Todd. You know you're irreplaceable."

He looked at her evenly. "You're not helping the ego issue."

She fanned herself with her hand. "Being in your presence has made me lose all train of thought."

He threw one of the small stuffed animals at her, bouncing lightly off her shoulder. "You should just ask him."

Feigning ignorance, she averted her eyes. "Who?"

"The Dali Lama."

"You think he's free?"

Giving it a moment's thought, he responded. "I'm sure he could pencil you in. But be certain you check with his social chair to see what he's wearing. I'd hate for the two of you to show up in the same dress. I doubt the Founder's committee looks too highly on that."

"Noted." She glanced down at her watch, finally realizing the time. "It's getting late. I should probably get going."

He nodded in agreement. He watched as she gathered her things from around the room. "Really, just ask him." Before she had a chance to counter him, he cut her off. "DuGrey's a nice guy. I'm sure he can put whatever problems the two of you have aside for a couple of nights."

Uncomfortable with his suggestion, she busied herself arranging the items on his bedside table. "Can I get you anything?" Glancing at the low level in the pitcher, "more water maybe?"

"Rory, I'm fine. Really." Realizing she wasn't going to be receptive to his suggestion, he decided to let it drop. "Thanks for stopping by tonight. You didn't have to."

"I know. I just wanted to see that you were O.K."

"And you're verdict."

She slung her purse over her shoulder. "You've got an incurable case of 'I lost to a girl at cards."

"Ouch," he said, placing his hand over his heart.

"Ah, the truth hurts."

He paused for a minute, considering asking what he was about to propose. "Hey Rory?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think we could do this again sometime? Minus the narcotics and tubing, of course."

She smiled at him yet again. "I'd like that."

"Me too." When she stood there a few more seconds, he motioned for her to leave, knowing the hour was late. "Drive safe."

She made her way towards the door into the hall, grasping the big silver handle. Before she could pull it open, he called out. "Oh, and minus the part where you kick my ass."

She turned her head over her shoulder and looked at him deviously. "I promise nothing."

******************************************************

"I have a favor to ask of you." She looked across the table into the eyes of her adversary. Seeing she wasn't going to get a response she trudged on. "It's about the Founder's thing this weekend." Still no response.

Wringing her hands in front of her, she contemplated the various ways to ask the questions in her head. "As you've probably heard, Todd injured himself yesterday. He blew out his knee and now is laying in the hospital waiting on surgery. And seeing as he was my escort to this thing, I now have no one to share in my humiliation at this weekend's events." She got her first response.

"I know."

Taking that as a good sign, she continued. "And since it's too late for me to tell them I have no escort, and since I don't know anyone else at the school…"

"You really know how to flatter a guy, don't you?"

She looked down at the table and began tracing a circle with her finger. "I'm sorry. It's just….. Well you see…" , she stammered.

"Can you just say what you're going to say? I don't really have time for this."

She was a little annoyed. "Well, I was wondering, since I went with you to that wedding, I thought maybe you'd return the favor and be my escort this weekend." She looked up hopefully.

"So now I'm obligated to."

"If you really don't want to go, you can just say so."

"And if I do that, I come off looking like an insensitive jackass."

She tried to come up with the words. Her mind was failing her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"Well, perhaps you should think about things before you actually say them."

She was caught off guard and stared back questioningly.

"You said you were sorry, right?"

She nodded her head in agreement.

"Then why don't you accompany me to the janitor's closet and show me just how sorry you are."

Rory's head snapped up. Breaking out of character for the first time she scowled at her mother. "Mom! He's not going to say that."

Lorelai stared across the table at her daughter. She'd been playing the bad guy for the last twenty run-throughs of this charade, helping Rory practice various techniques as to how she was going to ask Tristan to be her escort. "You told me to respond like he would. Get inside his head. I think given his history, that question isn't all that unlikely."

Rory placed her hands on the side of the table, pushing her chair away. The wooden legs scraped against the linoleum, causing shrill squeaks to reverberate through the room. She made her way to the coffeepot, filling her travel mug with enough coffee to make it through the morning. "I'm trying to be serious here. He's my only option. What am I going to do if he says no?"

Lorelai copied her daughter's movements, filling her mug for the short drive to Hartford. Reaching across the counter, she pulled out the drawer in front of Rory. She grabbed a small spoon with one hand, while pouring sugar into her cup with the other. "He's not going to turn you down."

Rory used her hip to push the drawer back into its hiding place. Taking the spoon from her mother, she stirred her own cup before snapping the protective lid into place. "How do you know?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Because he wouldn't do that to you."

Rory stood for a moment leaning back against the counter. She took a small sip of coffee, careful not to let it burn her tongue. Setting down the mug for a moment, she crossed the room and picked her backpack off the floor. "You don't know him."

Lorelei pondered the statement for a moment. "I know that he cared enough about you to be hurt when you turned him down."

Rory continued gathering her things. "His ego was hurt. It had nothing to do with feelings," she countered. She stood in the center of the room for a minute, checking off the items on her mental list.

Grabbing the keys from the counter Lorelai turned to face her daughter. "Well then he'll say yes because he'll get to parade himself around in front of all those rich women. Nothing boosts an ego like rich, old ladies fawning over a nice teenage male specimen."

Rory shrugged her shoulders in indifference. "We need to get going. I don't want to be late again." She made her way to the hall, stopping to adjust her skirt in front of the hall mirror.

Her mother called from behind her. "So, would you do it?"

"Do what?"

Slipping her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, Lorelai mumbled over the bagel protruding from her mouth. "Make out with him in the janitor's closet."

Rory flipped the switches on the wall, immediately darkening the entryway. "Heavens no." She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. "I'd insist on the teacher's lounge."

Pulling the door shut, Lorelai smiled. "That's my girl."

******************************************************

Four periods into the day and she had yet to make her move. He had eluded her in every class they shared, once again arriving late and leaving early. She had seen him a few times in the hall, each time noticing he didn't even bother to look in her direction. He was forever surrounded by a group of his friends, almost daring her to cross that line and approach him, knowing she never would. He was using his entourage as a buffer, and she was really starting to get irritated.

She entered into her history classroom, taking her usual seat in the rear. She was the first one there, as was the common custom. Most other students elected to mingle in the halls until mere seconds before the bell. Apparently they obtained some sort of rush by the prospect of almost being late. She shared this class with him, but she held little hope that he would arrive any sooner than her classmates. Lunch immediately followed this period, and she figured now was as good a time to approach him as she was ever going to get. His seat was across the room, and he would have to pass by her desk to get to the only exit. She'd corner him before he could slip away and make him listen to her. Or so it was the plan.

She was rehearsing her lines in her head when she noticed someone standing beside her desk.

"My mother's making me invite all of the members of the Founder's Court over to my house for tea." Paris looked at her disinterestedly. "It's on Sunday afternoon, after the crowning. She wants you to bring your escort, but since you don't have an escort, I'd understand if you didn't want to come."

Rory looked at her blandly. "I'll have an escort by then."

"Well, it's at my parent's summer house outside of Hartford. It would probably take you at least an hour to get there. So if it's too far to drive, that's O.K. too."

Rory returned her halting stare. "If you don't want me to come, just say so."

Taking a few steps forward, Paris took her seat across the aisle. "I don't care if you come or not. But it's not like I'll sit up crying myself to sleep if you can't make it."

Rory opened her notes as she heard the bell chime. "I'll be there then."

"I'm ecstatic," Paris replied dryly.

Rory simply sighed in response.

Forty-five minutes and six pages of notes later, Rory took a minute to flex her hand, stretch out the cramping fingers. Her eyes wandered to the clock along the wall, realizing that the bell should be ringing any second. She looked over at his form. He was slouched downwards in his desk, his foot propped on the bar under the seat in front of him. He was chewing on the end of his pencil, staring blankly at the front of the room. He turned his head slightly and looked her way.

He looked at her with an odd expression, the safety of the distance allowing him to study her. He ran his gaze over her, scrutinizing her from head to toe. His appraisal resulted in a look of indifference. She felt a bit uncomfortable, crossing her arms over her stomach and straightening in her chair. Their eyes met in a cool stare, just as the bell sounded signaling the end of the class.

She waited for the instructor to dismiss the class, quickly gathering her things into her backpack. She stood quickly from her chair, never taking her eye off of her target. She was about to make her way to his side of the room when she heard the instructor call out.

"Mr. DuGrey, would you mind staying for a minute after class?"

Tristan acknowledged the request and slowly gathered his things. His gaze briefly met hers, a seemingly knowing look in his eyes.

Rory's shoulders slumped. She turned on her heel and headed for the door. She would have waited for him outside the classroom, but Chilton's rules stipulated that all students must be in the cafeteria for the duration of their lunch period. Her presence outside the door would be noticed in seconds, and she would be corralled with the others down the hall. Any attempt to abandon the routine would be futile.

Surrounded by giggling students, her shoulders bumped with others as they brushed by her. She pondered her options in her head. She had no more classes with him that day, so rendezvousing with him during school hours was not likely. She could try to approach him in the hall, but given his avoidance of her, she doubted very much that she would get his attention. And the short passing periods wouldn't provide much time to broach the subject with the finesse that it necessitated.

She was running out of options, and she was almost out of time.

******************************************************

Rory bent down in front of her locker, tying the laces on her Oxfords. Looping one end over the other, she double-knotted them so that she would be safe from them coming untied again. Tripping on her laces was just the kind of humiliation that would put a seal on today.

She swooped up her bag from its resting place on the tiles. It was weighted down with books and notes as her study routine intensified with the waning of the semester. She struggled to pull it on her shoulders in mid stride, careful to maintain her balance as she walked for the main door. Another day had passed and she was one step closer to summer vacation.

Pulling open the heavy oaken doors, she felt a bit of drizzle as the wind hit her face. Looking skywards, she observed the impending storm clouds, praying that the bus was on time tonight. Throughout her year of bus trips, she'd quickly learned that the schedule depended mostly on who was behind the wheel. She couldn't remember if today was an odd or even day, so the chances of the bus running late were probably fifty/fifty. Trudging over towards the bus stop, she stood to the side, preparing to read from the book that she purposely kept out.

Breaking out of her trance, she heard loud laughter from the parking lot. Looking up from her book, she scanned the lot in search of the source. She saw a small group of her classmates, gathered around the car of another. Squinting her eyes to get a better look, she realized she recognized that car. One of the crowd peeled away from the others, punching shoulders and yelling his good-byes. With an unobstructed view, her eyes registered on the center of attention. And she was not surprised.

He was leaning back on his car, flipping his keys around the ring on his fingers. He laughed at something one of his friends said, crossing his feet in a careless stance. He looked like he hadn't a care in the world.

Deciding it was fate that he was still here, she decided to suck it up and make her way to him. Taking the first few steps, her gait lengthened as she mustered her courage to make the trek.

When she arrived at the assembly, only a handful of his friends remained. From her angle, he was facing her direction and the backs of his friends were to her. She stopped a few feet behind them, hoping that he would see her there and she wouldn't have to call out. Boring her eyes on his face, she willed him to look in her direction. She thought he saw her once, but wasn't sure as he quickly turned away. Certain that he would notice her any minute, she continued to stand in silence, waiting for him to make the first move. A few more times his eyes met hers, and now there was no doubt he was aware of her presence.

Seeing that he wasn't going to make this easy and acknowledge her, she knew she had to speak up. She hoped the shaking of her voice wasn't audible to anyone but her own ears. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

The sound of a female voice caught the attention of his friends. They turned around quickly to face her, and she could feel their eyes assessing her from top to bottom. She recognized a couple of them from her classes, but doubted very much that any of them knew her name. She smiled slightly and nodded her head as a semi greeting to the others. A couple of them turned back to Tristan and finished a few comments about some party that had been rumored around school.

She held back a ways as they dispersed in the directions of their cars. She couldn't the looks on their faces as they pulled away, or see a couple of them nudging each other while backstepping and giving thumbs up signs to Tristan. He grinned in acknowledgement, shrugging off their comments. When they were finally alone, his eyes briefly met hers before looking away into the distance.

"What do you want?" His voice was a bit edgy, bordering on hostile. And she couldn't say that she hadn't expected that.

Not wanting to dive right into the subject, she decided to start with a less controversial topic. "Is everything O.K. in history? I know you were asked to stay after class," she started feebly.

"Of course you know, he asked me in front of the whole class." He continued to stare off into space, refusing to meet her eyes with his own. He was either disinterested, annoyed, or hurt. Any of which he expertly hid from her probing gaze.

She stumbled on. "I know but I was just hoping nothing was wrong."

He looked at her doubtedly. When he spoke his words showed little emotion or inflection. "Everything's fine."

"Good."

Shoving himself off of the car he again started circling his keys around his finger. "So is that all?"

Afraid she was going to be dismissed again, she fought to find the words to continue. "No. Actually there's something else." She faltered with the words, her tongue feeling thick as she tried to speak.

He stepped around her, turning his back to her as she continued to talk. Pushing the button on his remote, his car beeped, disabling the alarm and unlocking the door. "I figured there was more."

She continued to stare at his back as he fumbled with his keys and the door. His back was very uninviting, and she realized that was his intent. "It's about the Founder's thing this weekend." He paused and straightened, still not turning to face her. She pleaded with him to turn around. "Can you please turn around so I don't have to talk to your back?"

He turned around, a look of half amusement, half disgust on his face. "I'm sorry, was I not giving you all the attention you deserve?" He leaned against the car with his hip, crossing his arms over his chest in a standoffish gesture. Motioning her with one hand, he snidely said, "please, by all means continue."

She was growing more annoyed by the second. His lack of interest in even talking to her combined with his patronization was grating on her nerves. "You don't have to be such a jerk."

Without blinking he retorted. "And you don't have to be so self-righteous."

Somewhere in the back of her head she knew she shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't be starting this with the one person who was capable of helping her out of her situation. But the smirk on his face was taunting her, and she wasn't about to stand back and let him get the upper hand.

She looked at him with indignation. "Where do you get off calling me self-righteous? I've got three words for you. Pot. Kettle. Black. Figure it out."

She turned swiftly on her heel, her hair flinging over her shoulder with the wind. With heavy, determined steps, she purposefully walked away from him. Crossing her arms over her chest to keep out the cold wind, she mumbled under her breath.

He watched her storm away from him, her hair swinging back and forth with her forceful stride. Sighing audibly, he turned a bit so that his back was leaning against the car. Closing his eyes he cursed himself for being so juvenile. She had taken the first step, trying to cross that gap of hostility that lingered between them. But returning to his antics of junior high, he fought away her attempts at reconciliation for a small sense of personal satisfaction. But all he had done was leave them both frustrated, angry, and alone.

The skies opened up and the rain began to fall steadily. He stepped away from the car, opened the door, and swung his leg in, pulling the door shut when he was in. He picked up his jacket that he had discarded into the car earlier and tossed it in the back seat. Turning the key in the ignition he heeded the seat belt chime and clicked the metal into the receptacle. Flicking on the windshield wipers, he looked forward and saw her sitting at the stop. She was huddled alone on the bench, the rain soaking through her hair and clothing.

Placing the car in reverse, he looked one last time in her direction, before hitting the gas and dashing out of the parking lot.

She said on the cold metal bench, figuring it was useless to protect herself from the rain at this point. She debated heading back into the school to catch the later bus, but she knew if she did, the driver would pass on by due to no one being at the stop. So she resigned herself to wallowing in the cold rain. It seemed a fitting ending to the day. Her thoughts were interrupted by someone calling out her name.

She looked up and saw Tristan sitting in his car, leaning over to the open passenger window. She ignored his call to her, and pretended to be focused on something in her lap.

Tristan glared at her from a distance of about ten feet. She wasn't going to give him any leeway. He'd made it about a mile down the road before cursing himself and turning the car around. Even he couldn't be that cruel. He called to her again. "Rory, will you get in the car."

She didn't respond.

He stared at her for a few more seconds. Reluctantly, he apologized for his actions. "Look, I'm sorry. You were right and I was a jerk. Now please get in the car before you drown out there."

She looked up and meaningfully into his eyes. Just barely speaking, she responded with a firm "No."

Throwing open his door, he climbed out and jogged over to where she was seated. "It's raining and you're going to catch a cold. Get in the car and I'll give you a ride home."

She looked up and met his eye. Again she rejected his offer. "No."

Running a hand through his wet hair, he pleaded with her again. "I said I was sorry. What do you want from me?"

She continued to stare at him. "You said you were sorry, but you didn't mean it."

He stepped a few feet back from her and glared at her. "You know what, you're right. I didn't mean it. I still think you're self righteous and full of yourself. But that said, get in the car."

"Your incorrigible." She hissed. "I wouldn't give you the pleasure of being the knight in shining armor. I'd rather sit out here and drown."

He paused for a moment. "If that's the way you want it." She looked away from him for a minute as he continued to stand there and watch her. A few moments passed and she had relaxed her posture for a split second. He took that opportunity to make his move. Putting his arms around her waist, he began to pick her up off the bench.

She flailed her arms and tried to wiggle from his grasp. "Get off of me," she bit out.

He ignored her protests and kept his arms firmly around her waist. She continued to struggle but her light body was no match for his strength. He half dragged her, half carried her the few yards to his car. She was flinging her arms and a few times she caught his jaw on the upswing. Enduring her jabs and protests, he set her down and restrained her with one arm while he opened the passenger door. Careful not to hit her head on the roof, he gave her a mild shove to get her in the car. Her struggling had waned a bit, almost resigning herself to the predicament.

Once her limbs were inside, he slid the child safety feature to on, and shut the door. She tried the handle once, and seeing she was locked in, she glared at him through the glass. He stepped back to the bench, fisted the material of her backpack and walked around to the driver's door. Opening it with wide swing, he carelessly threw her bag in the back seat, landing on top of his wrinkled jacket.

He slid into the car and put it in gear. He didn't bother to look in her direction as he hit the gas and lurched the car into motion.

Leaning as far away from him as she could, she practically melted herself to the door. Before they made it through the parking lot gates, she hissed her first words. "I hate you."

In a tone to match her own he replied. "Yeah, well the feeling's mutual."

End Part 7